Safe Room
by hepster
Summary: Claire and Steve find a moment of rest in what can be only a safe haven for them on Rockfort. Will things heat up between the two? DRABBLE REQUEST FOR SHEENAH ON deviantART.


Footsteps and heavy panting was all that could be heard in the moonlit hall. The sound of boots slowed slightly, and then came to a complete halt. Two figures, a man and a woman, stood just beyond the threshold of what appeared to be a small seating area, complete with a broken vending machine and a small chair next to it. Two doors, one made of metal and the other of wood, also added their presence.

"Hey, Claire, you hungry?" the young redhead grinned at the red-vested girl standing next to him, who simply rolled her eyes at him, although her voice was slightly amused.

"Oh yeah, Steve, after running around from a bunch of zombies, the first thing I want to do is eat a bag of stale peanuts."

Steve put his hands up in defeat, mumbling something about women underneath his caught breath. He walked over to the broken hunk of metal standing in the corner, looking it over carefully, while Claire reloaded her weapon, watching him out of the corner of her brilliant blue eyes.

BAM! Shattered glass fell to the ground. It crunched underneath his work boots as he stepped on the shards to get to the prize waiting in the machine. He opened the package and quickly munched down on a few peanuts, rather obnoxiously from Claire's point-of-view. She walked over to the wooden door, examining the light switch that was mounted on its' left side.

And suddenly, the room shook slightly as a metal shutter quickly eased down to the floor, trapping the two teenagers inside. Both of them rushed to the shutter, hopelessly banging against it. Static from an unseen intercom cracked, before a familiar, creepy voice sang out from it.

"Welcome, Claire! Steven! Consider the area you're in a…special playground I have prepared just for you. Please try keeping me amused and don't disappoint me by dying to soon. I…do so want to…enjoy this!" Alfred's maniacal laughter faded out, leaving them in silence once more.

Steve kicked the door, letting out a quick "Dammit!" as Claire glared hatefully at the ceiling. She then directed her attention back to her partner, who was still seething.

Her gloved hand gently touched his arm [which, she couldn't help but notice was rather toned], trying to offer some comfort for their rather shitty situation.

"Hey, come on Steve, let's just get out of here."

"Yeah, you're right." He said hesitantly. "Let's try that metal door over there. That looks menacing enough."

The duo made their way to said door, getting on either side of it. Their backs were against the wall with guns at the ready to shoot whatever surprise that sick freak Alfred had in store for them. Their eyes met for a moment, giving a quick nod of the head before Steve turned the handle quickly. The door swung open and Claire and Steve rushed inside, aiming at whatever obstacles they would have to face.

But there was nothing inside to harm them. The two teens stood what could be called a rather comfortable room. Moonlight bathed it in a silvery glow, a small lamp giving off it's own warm glow to illuminate the surroundings as well. There was a desk a few feet in front of the door that had a few paper scattered across its' surface, along with an antique typewriter. Couches lined the back and sidewall, completing the appeal of the chamber.

Steve laughed at how overly cautious they had been. The ginger made his way over to the couch sitting closest to the windows, plopping down upon its' cushions with a thud. He let one arm rest behind his head, the other barely touching the ground with his gun lying just within his grasp.

"You should come relax, Claire! Nice and comfy, just for you."

Claire folded her arms in front of her chest, smiling slightly at him with her brows raised. She made her way over to him and then let herself sit right on top of his stomach, causing him to groan.

"Geeze, you're a lot heavier than you loo-OW!" Steven winced as the object of his affection made a point to put more pressure on top him.

"You were saying?" She teased with a rather playful tone. He scoffed lightly, but was honestly thrilled that the beautiful woman sitting on top of him had finally started to open up to him a bit more and act less serious about their whole predicament. When Steve had first laid eyes upon her, pointing her gun at him and demanding his name, he couldn't help but notice the way her leather vest accentuated her breasts, or how her jeans hugged her waist so nicely, and how beautiful and lively her eyes were.

As they continued to run around the terror of an island called Rockfort, he couldn't help but admire her strong determination and genuine concern for him, despite only knowing him for a few hours. Call it cliché, but he could see himself falling for a girl like her in a heartbeat.

Steven was drawn out of his thoughts as he felt a pressure across his chest and lifted his head up a bit to see nothing but a world of auburn hair, laying across him.

"Uh…Claire? What're you doing?" he asked, puzzled and slightly embarrassed by the position he was in.

"You WERE the one that told me to get comfy. Aren't you the one that

says I should trust you?" She looked up at him, glorious blue orbs drowning him. He felt a heat rise up to his face. "Actually, you're not a bad pillow, Steve."

"Well, you know, happy to provide my services to a lovely lady like you." He replied smoothly, despite being reluctant to flirt with her. He didn't want to come off too strong.

Claire chuckled a bit at his rather lame attempt at trying to butter her up. It was kinda cute, she would admit, the way his eyes would betray what he was saying and show just how nervous he was when he said something 'smooth'. She was more than aware of his crush on her, even if he didn't think she knew it.

She'd be lying if she had said that she hadn't had even a tiny thought about him romantically. Steve was very handsome, and could be nice when he wasn't trying to hard to be cool with her. But now wasn't the time to be thinking about that, no matter…how tempting it was, sitting on top of him, both of them unmoving. Who knew when they'd be able to rest again?

The auburn haired beauty carefully scooted herself closer to Steve's face. He propped himself up on the arm that had been behind is head, coming face-to-face with her. He looked a little more than surprised by her sudden movement. His emerald greens were shimmering with hope, with anticipation of what he wanted.

She felt her lids lower and lips part ever so slightly. Steve inhaled lightly, his muscles tightening underneath her. He seemed to be contemplating something. Then, gently, he moved his free hand up to touch the side of her face, and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, not breaking eye contact with her. Claire couldn't help but lean into his touch. Time seemed to slow down, frame by frame.

"Claire."

With the simple declaration of her name, Claire leaned forward and pressed their lips together, shifting her weight to rest more comfortably on top of him. Steve wasted no time in reciprocating the kiss, using the hand that had been resting on her cheek to pull out her ponytail and letting it cascade around her. He ran his fingers through it so easily, his other arm resting on the small of her back as he rested completely flat upon the surface of the couch.

Claire moved her hands underneath his blue work shirt, feeling his toned torso from the thin undershirt he wore. She couldn't help but admire how muscular he was; he was toned, but not so much that he looked bulky. Nice lean muscles were something she always had a thing for. She decided to go the extra mile, biting down on his lower lip with a tenderness that was unexpected of her. Steve gladly obliged, finding her tongue with his own. They danced around with each other, exploring every inch that they possibly could for as long as possible.

He was the one that broke the kiss first, practically gasping for breath. He must have forgotten to breath through his nose, which Claire couldn't help but smile at. Steve seemed to be embarrassed by having to break away from that wonderful make-out session.

"I take it you haven't made-out like this before?" she giggled.

"I-I have! It's just…. been awhile, being in prison and all." He attempted to recover from Claire's teasing.

"Oh yeah, I'm totally convin-AH, Steve!" Claire moaned his name as he quickly leaned forward and started sucking on her neck, boldly going to cradle her breast in his hand. He moved his lips to trail kisses everywhere he could; her collarbone, crook of her neck, behind her earlobe, all while squeezing and tantalizing her extremity.

He pulled away from her skin only for a brief moment, to whisper into her ear, "You convinced now?"

There was a brief pause from the ex-college student, before he was pushed down onto his back, his hands leaving their positions to be thrown back on the couch cushions. She was straddling him now, each of her thighs on either side of him. Her hands, pressed against his torso, started kneading up and down, massaging him.

Steve's breaths hitched in his throat as she leaned down into him, nibbling onto his earlobe, then moving on to kiss the sides of his face, and then back to his lips. She didn't bother to waste time playing around, and drove her tongue back into his mouth. Claire ground into him with a roll of her hips.

He quickly moved his hands back up to wrap around her waist, pulling her down to him while groaning from the way her damn hips kept moving. She was good. So. Very. Good.

…. A little TOO good. Uh-oh.

Steve stopped his kissing, trying to keep perfectly still as blood rushed to his face and to another unmentionable part of his body. His sudden lack of movement didn't go unnoticed by Claire.

"Something wrong?"

"Huh? No, nothing, just uh…taking another breathing break."

Silence.

"Hey Steve, did you forget to throw your gun down before all of this?"


End file.
